Chapter 4
A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in updating! Thank you for your responses regarding my pacing, you all seem pretty happy with it so I'll pretty much carry on as is. If I think of any scene extensions, I will probably upload them as one shots.
Onwards and upwards!
If Mr Bell had not been a gentleman, he would have vaulted out of the train carriage and sprinted to Harley Street. Sadly, he was, and decorum and public decency demanded that he step off slowly and ask a porter to hail him a cab.
His mind was a whirl, replaying the letter he had received from one Frederick Hale. A boy who by all accounts must be a man now, one he hadn't seen since before his fateful departure for the Navy. To receive a letter openly stating he was now residing back in England had at first seemed a terrible hoax to Adam Bell. He made subtle enquiries through his connections and found Fred to be telling the truth. Which made the following news of Margaret's collapse all the more troubling. He'd abandoned his business in Oxford as quickly as possible, dashed off quick instructions to his solicitor and found the first available train to London. The lateness of the hour also demanded he stop at his London hotel of choice to arrange his accommodation and stay put for the night. He rose at first light and was bound for Harley Street as soon as calling hours were permitted. He knocked and waited to be admitted. The butler opened the door.
"Good afternoon. I'm Mr Bell, here to visit Frederick and Margaret Hale"
"Yes Sir, come in. I will show you to the parlour"
As he walked through the hallway, Mr Bell was unnerved by the unmistakeable sound of a woman sobbing and a low murmur of voices. Upon arriving in the parlour, he declined an invitation to sit, and took to pacing anxiously until someone came to him.
After about five minutes, the parlour door opened… and Richard Hale walked through the door. Mr Bell stared and blinked. The image of his old college mate, in the most vibrant days of his youth was replaced, with a man who bore a great likeness to him, but traces of other personages could be found in his face. This man also looked worn down and tired, as if he shouldered a great burden.
"Frederick," Mr Bell almost whispered, "How long has it been, old boy?"
Frederick's countenance brightened considerably as he looked at his father's old friend.
"Mr Bell, thank-you so much for coming," Frederick murmured, striding across the room to firmly grasp his hand.
"Of course, my boy of course. Anything for the children of my dear friend, God rest his soul. How is your sister?"
Frederick looked rather forlorn as the conversation steered towards the inevitable.
"Not so well at the moment I'm afraid. She was resting after breakfast and had another of her nightmares. I had soothed her to a coherent level before you arrived, but she is still in some distress"
Both men exchanged grave looks, equally concerned that Margaret's suffering was still so severe. However, Mr Bell, as congenial as ever, was determined to lift Frederick's spirits one way or another.
"Well, we shall leave her to the care of her excellent aunt and cousin and discuss other matters. While I cannot wave a magic wand and make your sister well, I can ease your burdens in other ways"
Frederick turned a curious gaze upon his wily godfather.
"Whatever do you mean Mr. Bell?"
A short half an hour later, Frederick Hale was struggling to pick his jaw up off the floor. Mr Bell's proposal had surpassed his wildest expectations.
"Mr Bell, I only proposed that you might help me find some means of employment. This is madness! We cannot accept all of this!"
Mr Bell fixed him with a grim smile.
"You can accept it Frederick, and you must. I am signing all my property and fortunes over to Margaret. I had planned to do this from the moment that I was alerted to the death of your poor father. I had not learned of the change in your circumstances at the time, so you will forgive me for not making any provision for you in my will"
Frederick shrugged this oversight off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and bid his godfather continue.
"However, given that you are now present, and Margaret's poor health, I now move to appoint you to hold it in trust for your sister, and act on her behalf. I am confident Margaret would not want it any other way. I will make a generous bequest to your Aunt to thank her for Margaret's care, so please do not feel pressured to give her any more money"
"But why? Why sign your life's work away – you still have so much of it to enjoy!"
The fact that Mr Bell did not immediately answer him ignited a small spark of panic.
"Mr Bell! The truth – tell me all of it!"
"I was delayed in my departure from Oxford, as I had to meet with my doctor…"
What felt like a lifetime later, but was in actual fact 10 minutes, Frederick was slumped in his chair with his head in his hands. His hair was sticking up at wild angles from the amount of times he had run his hands through it in agitation. Another blow for his poor sister. Another loss to process. What would he tell her? What would this do to her?
"What am I going to tell her?" he mumbled to himself.
"The truth. We will tell her that I have set my affairs in order and am moving to a warmer climate to live out the remainder of my days. We will tell her that she need not mourn me or worry about her position. We will assure her that she is loved and cared for by her family, both on earth and in heaven. I promise you Fred, she is gaining far more from this than she is losing"
Fred sighed and sat up straighter in his seat. Mr Bell had such a way of explaining things. Their meeting was interrupted by a knock at the door. Simpson entered as he was bidden.
"A package has arrived for you Mr Hale"
"Thank you, Simpson. Could you enquire as to the condition of my sister?"
"Yes Sir"
Simpson gave a small nod of his head and departed the room. Fred stared at the small package in his hand. It was postmarked as coming from Milton. He pulled it open to find the requested book and a letter addressed to him. Placing the book on the arm of his seat, he opened the letter.
Fred,
I am grateful to you for helping to clear up our misunderstandings about that meeting at Outwood Station. I hope you will forgive me, but I behaved atrociously towards your sister with regards to that evening. I cannot now think of it without regret, and the thought that it still played so heavily on her mind torments me greatly. I take no offence to the overtures you made on my behalf, as they are close enough to the truth, perhaps even understated.
Forgive me for speaking so frankly. It is a habit of us northerners, and failure to properly express what I was thinking led to many failures in my acquaintance with Margaret. I have resolved to always speak my mind and leave no want of understanding.
I enclose the book you requested, with no ill will towards you for the request. If I can play any part in your sister's recovery, I will do so gladly.
Yours,
John Thornton.
Fred set the letter down with the book, grateful for Mr Thornton's help. He paused, then sat bolt upright in his seat as a thought occurred to him.
"Thornton! You own Malborough Mills, or rather we – Margaret owns it now. What are we to do about Mr Thornton? I don't know the first thing about owning a mill or making cotton – what use could we be to him as landlords?"
Mr Bell waved away Fred's concerns with a chuckle.
"All taken care of. I'm meeting Thornton myself in a few days to explain the new situation. He's quite capable of running the mill and all the business aspects himself. Margaret – and yourself – technically speaking, would be landlords in name only"
At this, Simpson re-entered the room.
"Dixon reports that Miss Hale is calm and is asking for you, Mr Hale"
"Thank you, Simpson. Come Mr Bell. You may be able to bring some cheer to our dear Migsy" Fred rose from his seat and tucked the book under his arm.
Mr Bell followed behind Fred with no small sense of trepidation. Fred had filled him in on what to expect from her physical condition, but they were both nervous about what mood she may be in. When they reached the door of her sitting room, Fred motioned to Mr Bell to remain where he was, and stepped through the door. Margaret had been gazing out of the window and turned rapidly at the sound of the door. Her expression became rather cross.
"There you are Fred! You said you were only stepping out for a moment – it was very distressing when you did not return!"
His poor sister. So many people had left her, now the smallest feeling of abandonment would send her into a panic. He schooled his expression back to his usual cheerful demeanour and smiled easily at her.
"Forgive me sister, a visitor came for us and wished to discuss some business first. How would you feel about seeing our old friend Mr Bell?"
Margaret's cross expression changed so rapidly to a brilliant smile that it was disconcerting to behold.
"Mr Bell is here? Bring him in Fred, bring him in!" Margaret giddily exclaimed, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was still only clad in a nightdress and robe.
Mr Bell walked through the door and, to Fred's enormous relief, did not even bat an eyelid at his goddaughter's attire.
"I am ever your obedient servant my dear and will obey every beck and call!" he proclaimed, sweeping her a theatrical bow. Margaret giggled with delight and rushed to embrace him.
"It is so good to see you here Mr Bell! What news have you for us?"
"No news my dear, I only came with the intent of seeing you both. Fred's letter explaining his return to England seemed so incredible that I had to come and see it for myself! And of course, as your dear godfather, I had to see that you were well and being looked after," Mr Bell explained, smiling affably at her. To their astonishment, Margaret's expression instantly soured. Fred and Dixon exchanged a worried look.
"I am sure he told you all about it. They say I have lost my mind; they say I am suffering from hysteria!"
She began pacing, and the rest of the room's occupants held their breath. No one knew what to say in response.
"I am not mad! I am in grief! I have lost both my parents and one of the closest friends I ever had, did everyone really expect me to carry on skipping into the sunset with a smile on my face?"
"Margaret, grief is natural, but- "
"But nothing Mr Bell! I know the gossip that circulates about me in Milton, what they all think of my character after being seen on the platform with Fred! So quick to think the worst of me, and no-one gave me the chance to defend myself, had a thought that there was an innocent and plausible explanation. No-one!" The emphasis she was placing on 'no-one' left Fred and Mr Bell in no doubt as to the particular person she was ostensibly referring to.
"To lose all that I have lost, and to be rewarded by becoming an object of gossip for all, like some plaything or spectacle at a zoo!". Tears were starting to form in her eyes, and Fred motioned for Dixon to leave and summon Aunt Shaw.
"I heard Aunt Shaw and Edith discussing it the other day. A maid was dismissed for discussing my illness with laundry servants. Have I truly slipped so low in society that a maid considers me nothing better than a gossip topic?"
"You are right to be upset my dear – "
"I am not upset! I am…. angry! Yes, I am angry. Oh my goodness, I am angry! I do not consider myself a sinner, I have always attended church and said my prayers every night. I was obedient to my parents and cared for the poor. I looked after all around me and went where I was bidden and did as I was bidden. I am angry! I did my best to be an obedient Christian, and this is how I am rewarded? Everyone I loved best is gone, and I am confined to the house, considered a lunatic, and a mere servant thinks herself above my reproach? Does that sound like an apt reward for a life well lived in good Christian obedience?" Margaret demanded of her captive yet terrified audience. Mercifully, they were spared the turmoil of scrambling for an appropriate response by the return of Dixon, Aunt Shaw hurrying in behind her.
"My dear, this is quite the state you've worked yourself into. Dixon, please go and prepare Margaret a fresh pot of tea. It will do her poor nerves the world of good," Aunt Shaw instantly undertook to diffuse the situation, speaking to her niece in soothing tones. Her presence only soothed a fraction of Margaret's ire.
"Aunt Shaw, the maid you dismissed! Where is she?" Mrs Shaw only stared at her niece in utter bewilderment, shocked that she had learned of the incident. She instantly shot an accusing look at her nephew, who threw his hands up in consternation. Mrs Shaw collected herself with remarkable speed and addressed her niece in a deceptively off-hand tone.
"Lizzie? Oh, pay her no mind child. She will have likely returned to whatever insignificant village she hailed from, laid so low as to be beneath our notice. She has caused you enough distress already my dear, do not let the likes of her vex you further"
Truly, if Delilah Shaw had had the fortune to be born a man, she could have forged a remarkable career in political negotiations. Margaret, who had two minutes ago been close to hysterics and a sure meltdown, was already beginning to return to her usual docility, allowing Dixon to guide her back to her armchair.
Mr Bell could only watch on in horrified silence. He was remarkably glad of his decision to appoint Fred as trustee for his sister's inheritance but also dreading having to tell Margaret of why she was to become so handsomely settled.
Edith, having seen Sholto settled for his afternoon rest and having the time to spare, made her way to Margaret's rooms. She started in amazement at the presence of Mr Bell, having not heard him come in nor registered Fred's departure over the task of settling Margaret from one of her terrors. Seeing that the scene was settled, she invited everyone to take seats and decided to find out what he was doing here.
"So Mr Bell, what does bring you to London? I am surprised you could be tempted away from your beloved Oxford," Edith asked.
"My dear godson wrote me when he was settled here, begging me to come and see him. He thought I could help restore some cheer to our dear Margaret. I can only apologise that this so far has not been the case," he glanced apologetically at Margaret, who instantly looked mollified.
"The apology must be mine to make Mr Bell. It was unseemly of me to unleash all of my anger. It has been building in me for so long, I did not know any other way to unleash it all"
Mr Bell rushed to soothe her agitation.
"You have a great deal to be angry about my girl! You said it yourself, to be dealt such cruel hands after a life in perfect Christian obedience must be so galling to contemplate. Promise me that you will not live your whole life with this anger dear Margaret!"
Margaret looked thoughtfully out of the window while she framed her answer.
"You know, after all of my outbursts today, I do not feel as angry as I did. I was so frustrated for so long. It is so vexing to be unwell, and not be able to see a way out"
She looked around the room as she continued.
"Then I feel so guilty for the trials my illness has put you all through" A chorus of voices rose to dismiss her misgivings, but she held up her hand for silence.
"I know the society we live in, the gossip you have exposed yourselves to for continuing to care for me here in Harley Street, and I am more grateful for that than you could know," here she turned to her Aunt Shaw, and found that lady's tearful expression mirrored her own.
"Aunt, ever since I was a child and especially in the last few months, you have done more for me than anyone had a right to ask or expect of you. How can I begin to repay this kindness?"
Her Aunt, too overcome with emotion, simply reached out and squeezed her hand. Edith, far less restrained in her affections, rose out of her seat and flung her arms around Margaret, who returned the embrace fiercely.
Soon enough, everyone returned to their seats, and conversation resumed after many cleared throats and dabbed eyes. Margaret also found the time to affectionately squeeze her dear Dixon's hands and whisper some words of thanks.
"It would be an insult to your blessed mother not to have stayed by your side Miss. I did my duty and was glad to do so, and I'll hear no more of it," she responded gruffly, also threatening to be overwhelmed with emotion. She bustled out of the room to see to luncheon preparations and to ensure a place was set for Mr. Bell.
That invaluable Mr Bell. His immeasurable talent to put all around him at ease after a difficult conversation was invaluable to his present company, and it came into its own there and then.
"As I was saying, I came here to see my dear godchildren. I also had some business to discuss, which I have already settled with Fred, and will now put to you, my dear Margaret" he turned to clasp her hands in both of his.
"Business? What role could I possibly play in any of your business Mr Bell?"
"You can play the most important role I can think of my dear. I am naming you my heir"
"Your heir? But you are not… Mr Bell, tell me you are not…" she started to become agitated. Mr Bell squeezed her hands consolingly, and Fred rushed to his sister's side, seating himself upon the arm of the chair and placing his hands supportively on her shoulders.
"I have been blessed Margaret, to meet such an end as this. Not many men get the luxury of being able to plan their demise. I have time enough to set all my affairs in order, and then I am sailing for Argentina to see out my end days. I have always been attached to that place; it will be a most agreeable climate in which to go to God. Oh Margaret, please do not weep for me," he pleaded, as tears began to form in her eyes.
"What am I – what are we to do without you?" she whispered, bowing her head over his hands and squeezing them with all of her might, as if she could will him to live by her strength alone.
"Margaret, look at me," she lifted her head obligingly "You are both going to be fine. I am signing all of my wealth over to you. Fred will act as trustee for you, given your health. Trust me Margaret, I am doing more for you with my death than I could do for you in life. This money will be yours to do with entirely as you see fit. This will guarantee that you can be cared for in comfort for as long as you need. Please do not mourn for me Margaret, I will always be with you my girl. Do not think of what you are losing, instead think of what you are gaining. Can you do that for me?"
Margaret nodded weakly "When do you set sail?"
"In a month's time"
"You will stay with us until then?"
"Of course my dear. In fact I had thought, with your Aunt's gracious permission, that the three of us may take a sojourn to Helstone. I would only take you for a few days, a friend of mine is more than willing to accommodate us. What say you my dears?" he entreated cheerfully.
"Mr Bell," Aunt Shaw began, "Margaret may yet still be too delicate for such a trip"
"I understand your concern Aunt, truly I do, but a return to Helstone – however brief – may be just the thing I need. Would Dixon be able to accompany us as well, to assure you that I am always in capable female care?"
Aunt Shaw smiled. Ever the diplomat, dear Margaret. She nodded her consent.
"I shall ask her at lunch. I am confident she shall agree. She would so love a trip to Helstone and I can think of no better reward for her faithful service"
Margaret could also have taken up as a psychic if she so chose. Her proposal to Dixon was at first met with such enraptures that the poor servant was in danger of swooning. But Annie Dixon was not the swooning sort, so she collected herself remarkably, and accepted the assignment in more muted tones as befitting her station. Fred could have sworn he saw the maid skip out of the room to fetch Margaret more bread for her soup. Over lunch his sister was so enthralled in discussions of their trip that she did not notice Dixon pouring more soup into her bowl, with Aunt Shaw's encouragement, when she was not looking directly at her food. It took her by surprise that she felt full for the first time in memory.
They all repaired back to her sitting room after lunch, where Margaret finally noticed the book Fred had brought in with him all those hours ago.
"Fred, is that not Father's copy of Plato? I felt sure that I gave it to…"
"Mr Thornton. He gave it to me, before I left Milton," he lied smoothly, knowing Margaret would admonish him for asking for a gift to be returned, "He was distressed to hear that you were ill, and wanted you to keep it, to keep the memory of your father close. He knew that so many of their other possessions had to be auctioned off" There was love behind this deceit, Fred knew it was wrong, but he also felt he owed it to Mr Thornton to bolster Margaret's good opinion of him where possible.
Margaret turned the book over in her hands, pondering this new information. She allowed the ghost of a smile to flick over her face. Perhaps Mr Thornton would not be so cross to have to deal with the Hales as his landlords. She hugged the book close to her chest, breathing in the scant scent of her father that still clung to the leather. It was also interspersed with that familiar scent of smoke. She found she did not mind it so much.
And so the Hale siblings passed away the rest of the afternoon in a most agreeable manner, Margaret dozing in her favourite armchair while Frederick read aloud from their father's book. They could almost pretend they were children again, listening to their father read while their mother embroidered. Finally, Margaret was beginning to find her peace.
A/N – I thought I would reward you with a longer chapter for your wait. I'm also going away for a few days soon, so this may have to tide you over until I'm back. Please review!
Also, correct me if I'm wrong regarding source material – but I couldn't remember if Aunt Shaw and Dixon were given first names in the book – so I gave them ones of my own choosing.